Batgirl, Past Tense
by heytherehowyadoing
Summary: Claire Gordon moves from suburban Pennsylvania to New Gotham to live with her cousin, Barbara,  who was once Batgirl before being shot by The Joker  after the death of her parents. She expects an average life in the city, but instead finds adventure.
1. Disclaimer

Hi there!

First off, I'm really new to this site, so I apologize if my formatting with this story is completely wrong, haha.

By the way, most of the characters -I think all of them except for Claire- are from DC Comics.

Anyway, to all of the hardcore DC fans out there, I'm really sorry for how inaccurate some of the information about the characters and stuff is. I recently fell in love with the character of Barbara Gordon after reading The Killing Joke and watching a few episodes of Birds of Prey. I know that there are a bunch of different versions of backstories on characters and whatnot (or at least that's how it seems), but I'm basing my knowledge off of the TV series and filling in blanks with comic books. I did a lot of research, but I expect a bunch of things to be wrong.

Just bear with me please. (:


	2. Prologue

I'll never forget the last time I saw my father. He had been leaving for work on what seemed like an average autumn day. My stepmother ("Louise" to me; not "Mom") was flying back home to Pennsylvania from her trip to Florida to visit her parents at noon, and Dad was planning on picking her up from the airport during his hour long lunch break from his job at a paper company.

I didn't have school that day for some reason or another, so I had chosen to spend the day in my room, watching _I Love Lucy_ reruns, sitting on my bed with a huge bowl of popcorn and a tall glass of milk.

Dad poked his head in my room while I was asleep that morning. "Claire, I'm leaving for work," his voice called to me. Like most sixteen year olds, I was not the type to wake up immediately, and when I had the choice, I'd sleep until the morning was long over. "Have a good day," I mumbled, opening my eyes gradually. He made his way past the piles of clothes and other miscellaneous objects that lined my floor to kiss me goodbye. "You really need to clean this room, kiddo," he said as he planted a kiss on my forehead, his sharp beard poking and pinching my soft, pale skin. "I will, Dad. Love you," I replied, rolling over to go back to sleep. "Love you too," he said as he exited my room and closed the door behind him.

That was that. Two police officers knocked my door later that day to inform me that Dad and Louise had gotten in a car accident on the way back from the airport. They explained reluctantly that the accident had ended their lives.

Within a week, they had been buried, their wills have been read, and my house had been put up for sale. My bags had been packed and my future had been vaguely mapped out. I was to board a bus and leave my whole life behind. And that's exactly what I did.

It had been settled that I was to move about an hour and a half east to New Gotham City (the city decided to add the "New" a few years ago) and live with my cousin, Barbara. At the time, Barbara Gordon was 28 years old, and my best friend. Ever since I could remember, Babs had been the closest thing I had ever had to a sister _and_ to a mother. She taught me how to be a woman, listened to me when I needed to speak, and spoke to me when I needed to listen. She understood me, and even though she lived relatively far, I could depend on her to be by my side whenever I needed her. My father was single for a really long time after my mother died, and Babs was there at any school, ballet, or other miscellaneous event that he couldn't make it to. She knew what it was like to feel completely alone in the world; both of her parents had passed away when she was thirteen. Luckily for us, neither of us ever did have to feel alone. We had each other.

Barbara was adopted by her uncle, Jim Gordon, when she was orphaned. Uncle Jim was the police commisioner in Gotham City. There were a lot of strange things going on in Gotham; vigilantes worked beside cops, villians emerged from the streets and took the lives of innocent citizens, and eventually, justice took the villians behind bars where they belonged. It seemed that Gotham was trapped in a state of anarchy and insanity. Nine years before I moved in with Babs, this anarchy had changed her life forever. One of the most insane villians Gotham had ever seen, The Joker, broke into the Gordon household and shot her in the spine, robbing her of her mobility and the life she once had.

I was just a little kid when all of this was going on. I knew next to nothing about the madness that Babs and Uncle Jim lived in. I had no clue that Uncle Jim was working with Batman, one of the most iconic legends of Gotham City. I hadn't the faintest idea that Babs fought alongside Batman as Batgirl. And I was deeply under the impression that she was simply a random civilian being shot, not that she was one of the vigilantes putting scum, like The Joker himself, behind bars.


	3. Chapter 1

I boarded the long, gray bus to New Gotham City with nothing left of my past but a duffel bag filled with clothes and other junk and my memories. Just like that, a huge chapter in my life ended and another began. The only door I'd ever known slammed in my face, but a brand new one creaked open, as inviting yet terrifying as any other mysterious adventure. Only a week before that, I was wishing with every fiber of my being to be set free from my boring life in my small, suburban town. However, I had honestly never expected anything drastic to happen, especially not so soon.

It was an eighty-seven minute bus ride, and my seat was next to a morbidly obese, sweaty, middle-aged man who snored very loudly the whole ride. Saying that my mp3 player was my savior would be an understatement. About halfway into the drive, the man next to me's head landed on my shoulder, and it stayed there for a good ten minutes. The man next to me took the window seat unfortunately, and there was no way I could see the view outside of the bus past his stomach. I entertained myself by people-watching inside of the bus for most of the ride.

I observed that almost half of the bus population was elderly women who looked as though they were headed for a blackjack tournament in Atlantic City, which was the bus's last stop. A group of girls who looked to be about 21 seemed to be headed there as well for a weekend of gambling, getting wasted, and forgetting it all in the morning. There was family with three small, crying children sitting all the way in the back. The parents were hard at work trying to silence their kids and apologizing to the people sitting near them. Eventually, I got sick of all of the noise and people, so I decided to pop in my headphones and close my eyes until the bus arrived in Gotham.

As soon as the bus driver announced our arrival in New Gotham City, I pulled out my phone and dialed Barbara. The last thing I wanted was to get lost or raped or mugged or whatever. I was honestly terrified of the city. It wasn't very often that I left my little suburban bubble. I felt safe there. Here, I felt vulnerable and confused as hell.

I yanked my duffle bag from the little shelf above my seat and ran out of the bus and into the bus station. It was huge, dirty, and filled with people. I stood there for a momentat the area where my bus arrived: stop number 11.

There was a large flight of stairs that led up to the rest of the station that I had to climb to get to Barbara. I started to climb it, thinking of how she had changed since the shooting. You know how sometimes the memories of a person from a very long time ago are more prominent than the more recent ones? While climbing those stairs, I remembered Babs as the strong young woman that helped me perfect my goalie work when I was on the town spccer team. The one who'd tell me stories of her adventures as Batgirl, the masked vigilante. The broken body that I met and embraced at the top of the staircase was not the Barbara Gordon that I had remembered.

She held me tight in a strong hug, and then held me back at arms distance so she could get a good look at me. She was just as beautiful as ever; she had a radiant smile, glistening blue eyes that matched mine, and lucious red hair. "You got so big!" she exclaimed, smiling. I smiled back. "And you got your braces off!" I nodded, my dark hair bouncing up and down in the tall ponytail that I had put it in before boarding the bus. She wrapped me up in another huge hug. "I'm so sorry for your loss," she said quietly. "Thanks," I replied sadly.

We walked six blocks and took an elevator up eight floors to get to her apartment. When we first entered the apartment, we were in a small living room with pale green walls. On the back wall was a huge window with a beautiful view of the city. To the left of the living room was two bedrooms and a bathroom, and to the right was a decently sized kitchen and another room with a locked door.

"Make yourself at home," Barbara said cheerfully. "Your bedroom is to the left and then the right. Let me know if you need anything, okay? I'm gonna go do some paperwork at the kitchen table." She started to steer her electric wheelchair to the right and into the next room, but stopped and turned to look at me. "I'm really glad you're here, Claire," she said with a genuine smile. "I'm glad I'm here, too," I replied, smiling back. Then, we went our separate ways for a few hours; I had to unpack and she had work to take care of.

My bedroom was relatively small, but had a warm feeling to it. The walls were a soft orange color, and the furniture was wooden and very antique-looking. There was a tall armour against the left wall in which I neatly placed my few belongings. Beneath a small window on the right wall was a long desk, and a long mirror was hung beside it. A queen sized bed was against the back wall, and when I sat on it, I could feel my body sinking into the soft mattress. This apartment almost instantly felt like home.

There was a knock on my door. "Come in!" I called. The door knob twisted and then the wooden door opened, revealing Babs behind it. She rolled herself across the room and moved the joystick controller and right arm of her chair so she could slip her slender body onto my bed beside me. She was wearing gray, baggy sweatpants and a lime green shirt that fit her body like a glove and emphasized her hourglass figure. The contrast between her green shirt and bright red, natural hair was extremely complementary to her pale complexion.

It was about three o'clock in the afternoon. The sun was still pretty high in the sky, yet you could tell that it had already reached its highest point hours ago and that it was on its way to the west of the clear, blue sky to set. The sunlight bounced through the room and shone on Babs as she got herself in a comfortable position. It was quiet for a few minutes, and we just sat there next to each other, just soaking each other's company in. It had been a few years since we had seen each other. There was so much to be said, but the silence was far too comforting to ruin.

"I'm sorry I couldn't make it to the funeral," she said finally. I nodded, acknowledging that I had kind of expected her to say that eventually. "It's fine," I replied. "You didn't really miss much." I paused. "How have you been doing lately? Getting around alright?" I gestured to the chair that sat beside the bed. The chair that, for some reason, prevented me from feeling as comfortable as I used to feel around Barbara. The chair that made me feel like she was a complete stranger. "I'm getting around just fine," she said after a moment.

She looked down at the quilt that was thrown across the bed and played with a loose string in the needlework and then looked back up to me, her face as serious as a heart attack. "I really want you to know that I'm still the same person that you grew up with." She paused, almost like she was waiting for a reaction. "I'm not suddenly so frail or conservative. It's not like a bullet in the back turns you into a clone of Grandma Lee or anything." She smiled, and I couldn't help but laugh to myself about how accurately frail and conservative our grandmother was. "I still like to have fun, I'm stronger than ever, and you can still come to me for anything you need, Claire." She paused. "I just want you to know that."

I wrapped my arms around her in a huge hug and automatically started to cry. There was no reason to cry. I guess the events of the last week had finally caught up with me, or maybe her words hit me hard and I felt guilty because of feeling like she _had_ changed. I don't know what it was or why, but it was as if all of my emotions were suddenly unleashed all at once, and I simply needed to get them out. I felt her shoulder getting wet, but just kept on sobbing. She held me extremely tight, and I felt safe. "Things are about to get better for you," she promised. "Hell, things are about to get better for both of us."

We eventually stopped hugging. Babs flopped herself down on the bed, lying on her back, and sighed. "I have work Monday. Fuck," she said with a tired voice. "Let's do something really fun this weekend, okay?" I nodded. "You got it, Babs. We have lots of catching up to do."

She sat herself back up. "Yeah, you need to let me in on all of your latest endeavors! Any exciting romances? Adventures? Asshole teachers?" I laughed. "You're the only teacher I know that would ask such a question. How's that going anyway?" She smiled and shook her head. "I swear, teaching high school is better entertainment than any movie I've seen and any book I've read. Can't make this shit up." "I guess you have stories to tell me as well," I said. She nodded, and then we started to talk about how we should spend the rest of that sunny Thursday.

We had decided to just stay home, order some pizza and a movie, and play a board game or two. It was about 6:30 and we were lying on the couches in the living room watching The Hangover. Suddenly, we heard a key unlock the front door. Understandably, I was startled when a tall woman with dark hair in a strange costume darted into the apartment. Her hair was short, and came just above her rather muscular arms. Her skin was slightly tanned, and her eyes were small and dark brown. She wore what looked like an outfit consisting of a lot of black spandex and a thin, translucent cape.

Babs instantly sat up and started to maneuver herself into her chair. "What are you doing here?" she asked sharply to the strange woman. "Oracle, you need to come back to the clock tower." My confusion continued to grow at this point. Babs angrily yet subtley gestured to me. "Helena, this is not the time. I at least wanted her to get comfortable with me before I told her," she replied in an urgent whisper. "Barbara, we need you. There have been six police deaths since you moved into this apartment two days ago, and Dinah and I can't figure this out alone." The woman, who I guessed was named Helena, was almost begging Babs to go with her to this Clocktower place, wherever it was. Babs reluctantly looked at me. By then, I had paused the movie and was staring from her to Helena, dumbfounded. Babs sighed. "Claire, we need to talk."

She gestured for me to follow her and started to move past the kitchen towards the locked door. I got up from the couch and ran after her. "What the fuck is going on?" I demanded, angry that Babs was hiding something seemingly big from me. She took a key out from her bra and put it in the keyhole. She took a deep breath in and a deep breath out. "Just relax," she said as she opened the door, "and I'll explain everything."

The room looked like something out of Men in Black or some shit. In the center, there was a huge computer system set up, and there were six screens hooked up to the computer and placed around the room. Babs made her way to the center of the room and positioned herself beneath the desk with all of the controls for the computers on it. She clicked some buttons and different locations around New Gotham showed up on the screens. "I retired from being Batgirl years ago," she began. "But I never retired from helping to keep this city as safe as possible, and defending it from scummy psychopaths. I thought that I was ready to just give it up when I first retired from being Batgirl, but after I was shot," she looked down and paused, "I knew that I needed to join the fight again somehow. I wanted revenge more than anything else. So I learned all I could about the villians of New Gotham, and invested all of my time in creating a computer system that would allow me to be able to see and almost everything that happens in this city so I could give those that were fighting on our side the information they needed to come out victorious in battle."

She gestured to Helena. "That's around when I was given custody of Helena. Her mother had been murdered, and her father, Bruce Wayne, had never even known that she existed. We set up our headquarters and home in the New Gotham Clocktower. Helena eventually became a great fighter and went out as Huntress to fight for justice, and I stayed back at headquarters and worked as her eyes and ears with the name Oracle. Some time after, we were joined by Dinah, who had run away from her home to the city and ended up fighting with Helena. I once worked with her mom actually.. back when I was Batgirl." She drifted off, as if she was thinking of all of the memories from that time, and then came back to herself and continued speaking. "I wanted to give you some time to settle into a normal city life here before telling you, so I rented this apartment for a month and figured I could bring this little system from home just in case there was an emergency."

I was hurt that Babs had lied to me. I was grateful that she tried to protect me. But more than anything else, I was confused.

I just stood there, not knowing what to say or do. "Now that she knows, you might as well come home," Helena said flatly. "We have the apartment for the month," Babs replied. "We might as well at least stay for a few days. However, I'll see what I can figure out about the murders and email you the information, and Claire and I will see you at the Clocktower on Sunday, okay?" Helena nodded, turned, and left the apartment without speaking another word.

I heard the apartment door close and knew that I was alone with Babs again. "What else are you hiding from me?" I demanded. "Why wouldn't you tell me that you're a vigilante again? Did you not trust me enough or something?" "Claire, it's not that I didn't trust you. I know how hard it is to have to move to a new city, and I wanted you to be able to have as smooth of a transition as possible. I figured once you were really comfortable I could begin to expose you to the whole 'Oracle' thing." "The whole 'Oracle' thing?" I exclaimed. "This isn't just a 'thing', Barbara. This is your _life_. You'd think that maybe the fantasy of escaping from danger and putting the bad guy behind bars every time would have been broken when you became a fucking _cripple_, Barbara. You need to stop denying this."

She turned away from the computer screens instantly and looked at me, rage in her eyes. "No, Claire. You need to stop acting like I'm incapable of doing _anything_. I'm not suddenly a porcelian doll. My martial arts training didn't just fart itself away the second that goddamn bullet went in my back. You need to accept the fact that this is who I _am_, and I'm not giving that up just because some psychopathic murderer tried to force me to. You people need to stop looking at me like I'm one of those puppies on the Sarah McLachlan commercials. Like I'm _damaged_. Like I'm less of a woman than I was when my legs worked. If anything, I'm more of a woman than I ever was." She paused. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have some murders to research." She turned back to the screens and desk and angrily slammed on buttons.

I felt sick. I had never seen this side of her. It was as if I had poured cyanide over an open wound. It was then that I realized that this wound was scratched almost every time Barbara left her house. Every time someone showed her pity or treated her as though she's less of a capable human being than themselves, it was as though they were slowly killing her. I couldn't be angry at her for doing what she does. Because then I also realized that the only time that she really felt whole, as though there wasn't a gaping wound tearing her apart, was when she was Oracle.

Also, in any event, I had no right trying to convince her to do otherwise. She took me in. Technically, she was my guardian, and went out of her way to lie only so _I_ could have the easiest transition to the new life I was forced into. Hell, we were close, but I hadn't seen her in years. We stayed in touch, but she was never obligated to tell me every little fart and burp that happened in her life. She was a grown woman, and I needed to learn to let her live the way she wanted to, no matter how much her choices worried me.

That was when I accepted the fact that my life in New Gotham was going to be anything but ordinary.


	4. Chapter 2

At about ten o'clock, Barbara came into my room. I had left the door ajar on purpose; I wanted to give her the opportunity to talk about what had happened when she was ready without feeling like I was angry at her. "You know, when I need to blow of some steam, I go to the gym down the block." I couldn't help but think of how peculiar it was for that to be her first sentence to me since our fight, but I went with it. I got out of bed and walked over to her. "Is this an invitation?" I asked. She nodded, and then finally addressed our argument. "I'm sorry I hid all of this stuff from you, Claire. It's just that, well, I really didn't want to worry anyone. My dad doesn't even know about this all. He thinks I'm just living in the Clocktower because it's wheelchair-accessible and convenient."

I understood why she didn't want anybody to worry about her, but I still just didn't get why she felt the need to hide something like this from me. Yes, it's true that we hadn't seen each other and that we were both busy, but almost every other week there was a letter in my mailbox from her, telling me what I thought at the time to be everything that was going on in her life. And a few days later, there'd be a letter in her mailbox with a summary of the most exciting events of my recent life that I could think of at the moment.

But I had never really realized how far off grocery shopping and dating were from being the most exciting things going on for Babs, and I was almost annoyed with myself for not suspecting that she was excluding something big. Babs had _always_ had an exciting life, and had _never_ been one to spare any details when it came to our letters. However, now that I really thought about it, her letters had become more and more vague as time went on.

She shrugged and then continued. "And I mean, being Helena's guardian was no secret. If I remember correctly, you've even met her before." I nodded, remembering a much younger, more angst-ridden version of Helena visiting my parents and I back at home a few years ago with Babs. "I.. I didn't even recognize her," I replied, feeling even more like a complete asshole. "And Dinah took both Helena and I by surprise, and everything happened so quickly that I didn't even know what would last, and what was worth mentioning in my letters to you. And-" "Babs, it's okay. I mean, I had no right to freak out at you like that, and I'm really sorry. I was just surprised and worried and shocked all at once, and because of that, my common sense was absent long enough for me to freak out irrationally." "I understand," she said. "Let's just move on, alright?"

I agreed to leave it behind, and that's just what we did. There was no time to waste over little misunderstandings; there was simply too much to worry about. I had to worry about starting school on Monday at New Gotham High School (where Babs is an English teacher, by the way), and we both had to worry about packing up the entire apartment and moving into the Clocktower by Sunday. And quite honestly, I think that both of our minds were far too occupied to worry about being upset at each other.

"I'll be right out," Babs called to me from her room. By then, I had put on clothes for the gym, and I looked completely ridiculous; I had red basketball shorts on with a white tank top and red knee socks. My hair was tied up in a high pony tail that came down from the top of my head somewhat like a veil. My sneakers were looked as though they had been attacked by a wild bear; I had worn the same pair of size seven Nikes in gym class since the eighth grade.

"Alright," I called back to her, patiently waiting on the couch. She came out of her room a few minutes later in gym attire that was almost as ridiculous as mine. I couldn't help but wonder why it was nearly impossible to have decent-looking exercise clothes. After one look at each other, we couldn't help but laugh. I noticed that she had switched from her powerchair to a manual one. "Why the switch in vehicle?" I asked lightly. "I prefer to work out in this one. It's less bulky." "Ah, makes sense," I replied as I got up from the couch and opened the door for her. After grabbing two water bottles from the fridge, she left the apartment, and I closed the door behind us. We entered the small elevator down the hallway and pressed the shiny white button that would take us to the ground floor. The strong, metal door of the elevator closed itself in front of us as tried to fit comfortably in the tiny space, and then we began to travel down to the first floor. That very moment, my first adventure in New Gotham had begun.

The gym was three blocks down from the apartment building, across the street, and around the corner. It took us about twenty minutes to get there, because we stopped every once in a while so Babs could give me a miniature tour of the area. It wasn't anything too spectacular; there was simply a bank here and a diner there. A convenience store on the corner, and one with better prices on eggs and Pop Tarts three doors down. And this tour may seem like a waste of time, but I had no idea where anything was in New Gotham that evening, and by doing that, Babs had made me feel a lot less like a clueless tourist.

The man working at the gym seemed to recognize Babs. He waved to her, his huge bicep and tricep muscles seeming to pop out of his arms. She waved back, making her way over to the weight room, and then she gestured for me to follow her.

She led me to a room filled with more dumbells and other miscellaneous body toning equipment than I had ever seen in my life. The room was surrounded by mirrors instead of walls. There was a huge, gray carpet with a few darker stains, and a gigantic punching bag in the back corner. "Well," Babs said to me, "it's time for your training to begin." This confused me; I thought we were just going to the gym to blow off some steam. "Training?" She nodded. "If you're going to be living in the Clocktower, you're bound to need it eventually. People in New Gotham in general should know how to defend themselves. Especially you; it's almost inevitable that you're going to get in some kind of danger someday, and you'll need to know how to handle it."

There was a lump in my throat. My heart was pounding. I didn't want any of this. Just hours ago, I was freaking out at Babs for putting her life in jeopardy by being Oracle. I hadn't realized until then that I was doing the same by living with her. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. "So I guess I'm going to have to be a hero now?" I asked hesitantly. "No," she replied, "not necessarily. I'm going to give you the tools you need to be able to defend yourself. What you do with them is your choice. You could end up never needing these skills. You could end up using them once or twice in emergencies. You could end up becoming the greatest hero this city has ever seen." She paused, and then continued. "And, of course, you could also end up being its worst villian."

It took a minute for that to sink in. Never, not even once, had I imagined myself in this position; in a gym being mentored by a woman who had fought side by side with one of the greatest heroes of the era. Yeah, it was scary as hell to think that I'd eventually be in a situation in which I needed to use the skills I was about to learn, but what kind of idiot would pass up such an opportunity? Not that I could; I had no choice. I took one more deep breath, and then opened my eyes. "Okay, I'm ready."

The next hour was a whirlwind. I went from delicately lifting five pound weights and poking at the punching bag to kicking the living shit out of it and lifting almost half of my weight. Babs went from gentle instructing me to hollering commands; pushing me to work my hardest and then even harder. I was sweating so much I felt as though I had just been drenched by a tsunami, and I had pushed my muscles so hard that I was shaking by the time we were finished. Quite honestly, I had never pegged myself as the "badass" type, but damn, I felt like it by the time we were done.

I sat down in the corner of the room, drinking my water bottle as I watched Barbara briefly work out. Never in my life had I seen someone lift such heavy weights without cringing, or punch a punching bag so hard, repetitively, and steadily for such a long time without being winded in the least bit. In fact, she was phazed so little that she spent the entire workout talking to me; telling me stories of her adventures as Oracle that she was finally able to share now that I knew her secret.

At about a quarter to midnight, we left the gym and started to travel across the street, around the corner, and back up the three blocks to our apartment. We were passing the convenience store with the cheap Pop Tarts, when a tall man wearing a clown mask and black trench coat stepped in front of us, blocking our path. "Excuse us," Babs said to him politely, trying to maneuver herself around him. He shook his head and pulled out a dagger. "Sir, I don't think you want to do that," Babs calmly stated, slowly moving back a bit and signaling for me to stand behind her.

I was terrified. My whole body was trembling. I needed to do something. Yeah, Babs kicked ass at the gym, but was I really going to hide from a thug behind my paraplegic cousin? Before I could continue thinking about my next move, Babs had a black, eskrima fighting stick in each hand and was going at the man at full force, using one stick to shield herself from his blade and the other to attempt to incapacitate him. I simply couldn't help her. I was far too amazed at the fight going on in front of me to do anything but stand and stare. I could barely even think.

She was so graceful; each movement flowing into the next; alternating between using her arms to fight and to move her chair. I could see absolutely no fear or weakness in her eyes; only bravery and strength. The man seemed almost as shocked as I was. He was doing a pretty decent job at keeping his composure, but I could tell that he was afraid. I couldn't help but wonder how much of a great fighter she must have been as Batgirl. She used to tell me stories of jumping from rooftop to rooftop, feeling the wind blow through her hair. How she felt like she could do anything, even fly. I always believed that she could do anything that she put her mind to. Watching her fight that man from a wheelchair confirmed that.

I saw her hit a button on her watch when she had a free second. "Huntress," she said into the watch, holding it up near her mouth with one arm and shielding herself with the stick in the other. "Do you copy? Huntress." A voice replied from the watch. "I hear you loud and clear, Oracle. Are you alright?" "Outside Brady's Deli. Need backup," she said quickly before pulling the watch away from her face and fighting full force again. Within minutes, Helena arrived quietly, hoping to sneak up on the man. She struck him from behind, knocking him out.

Babs stopped to catch her breath. "Thank you," she said, panting. Helena nodded. "Who is this clown?" She looked down, saw his mask, and laughed. "Literally." Barbara did not react to Helena's joke. "One of the thugs behind the cop murders," she said after taking a few more heavy breaths. "But you're not a cop," I said, stepping out of the shadow that I was hiding in and finally snapping back to reality. She nodded. "Yes, but I am a civilian, and if he did something to me, it'd be an easy way to get into prison. That's where all of these murders are happening. They're trying to break down the New Gotham police force from the inside out." Helena took out her phone. "Let me call Reese really quick." Babs nodded.

"You alright by the way, Claire? I've never seen you that terrified before," she said to me. I laughed. "Well, that was my first time seeing a man with a weapon and violent intentions," I replied. She laughed. "Welcome to New Gotham, kiddo."


	5. Chapter 3

It was two in the morning when the excitement ended. Reese, a New Gotham cop (who had been seeing Helena on and off for a few years), eventually showed up and brought the clown to Arkham. As soon as the door of the cop car was closed and the clown was no longer a threat, the events of the evening seemed to just dissolve in thin air. All of the tenseness and fear just faded away. It was as if being a superhero was exactly like a 9-5 office job; you do what you have to do, and then you're free to go.

After "work", Helena, Barbara, and I decided to go get some food at a nearby diner. Still dressed for the gym, I felt like the biggest idiot on the planet. Then I remembered that Babs was dressed just as ridiculously as I was, and I felt much better. We got a table in the back, and sat quietly while eating sweet potato fries until Barbara decided to break the silence.

"So Claire, after seeing what you saw tonight, have you put any thought into what you want to do?" She had caught me off guard by asking this. I was far too shocked to give anything any thought, especially not something this important. However, before I could stop myself, I blurted out a hasty answer. "I want to help you guys. I'm in."

For the next hour and a half or so, Barbara and Helena took turns rambling on about my training and other things we needed to start thinking about; setting up an alter ego for me to fight as. It probably would have been a great idea for me to pay attention to all of this, but my mind was far too tired to receive any more information without some sleep. Just twenty-four hours before, I was packing to leave Pennsylvania, expecting to come to New Gotham and live an average city life. Now, I was sitting at a diner with Oracle and Huntress after crime fighting discussing whether or not I should include tights and a cape in my costume.

Three o'clock came and went, and eventually the manager of the diner politely asked us to leave. He was an older man, looking tired and seeming to ache for a comfortable chair and a cigar.

We pulled out our wallets, managed to gather enough money for the food and a decent tip, and went home; Helena to the Clocktower, and Babs and I to our apartment.

The trip home and up to the eighth floor was almost silent. I was brain-dead, and any attempt Babs made at starting a conversation with me almost instantly went to shit. It was as though I was on autopilot; I mindlessly followed her to the apartment, grunted a "good night", and headed over to my room to throw on some pajamas and crash.

But it was one of those nights during which you're so tired you can barely stand, but once you get to bed, you physically can't sleep. It was like my brain, but only my brain, was on Meth. It just kept going faster and faster. Completely irrelevant thoughts occupied my time and attention, and robbed me of the ability to get some rest.

By four o'clock, I was wide awake and wanted a snack from the kitchen. I slowly opened my bedroom door, attempting not to wake Babs. While sneaking out into the living room, I heard a muffled cry coming from Barbara's room. Not only was she awake; she was sobbing.

I knocked on her door, and then quietly opened it and slipped into her room before she could protest my entry. "Babs, you okay?" I asked gently, taking a seat next to her on her bed. "I'm.. I'm fine," she said, gasping for air between sobs. She was crying heavily. The kind of crying that makes you hiccup your words. The kind of crying that makes your whole body shake with sorrow.

"Clearly, you're not," I responded seriously. I knelt on the ground in front of her, so she was forced to look at me. Her blue eyes shined behind the accumulated tears. She tried to hold them in; to stop them from falling, but it was at the point where she didn't have power over that. "Talk to me," I demanded softly. "I'm here for you. You know that." She nodded, sniffling. I looked over at her night table to my right and found a convenient tissue box sitting upon it. I grabbed a tissue and handed it to her. She took it. "Thank you," she said, breathing in and out to try to calm herself down. "What's got you this upset?" I was concerned at this point. I had never seen Barbara be anything else _but_ strong. Here she was, falling to pieces right before my eyes.

"Nothing's right," she whispered. "How so?" She sighed. "Well, first of all, there's Wade." This response surprised me. "That guy you used to see? What's wrong with him?" She began to sob again. "He was killed by Harley Quinn a year ago. It's my fault. I'm the reason he was at the wrong place at the wrong time." She down at her lap, and then looked up at me with sad, helpless eyes. "I'm the reason he's dead." I shook my head. "No, Babs. It's not your fault. You know that."

I wrapped my arms around her and held her tight, and she rested her head on me, still sobbing, my shirt absorbing her tears. "I don't want to put you in danger too," she gasped. I shook my head. "You're not. I _want_ to do this, okay? And after you train me, I'm sure you won't have to worry about me at all." I released her, and she sat back up. I smiled. "Hell, I'm the luckiest girl in the world. I'm getting trained by Batgirl herself," I said, trying to cheer her up. She was quiet for a moment and then started to cry again.

I felt my smile fade. "You must miss it, huh?" She nodded sadly. "Don't get me wrong," she replied slowly and shakily, "I love what I do. Being Oracle is great, and I really feel like a more effective member of the crime fighting community. And I mean, kicking ass is one thing, but having all of the answers to help people kick ass more _efficiently_ - it's great." She sighed. "But yes, there's a part of me that misses it a lot. The freedom, the respect, the strength, the feeling of being so empowered; as if nothing could tear you down.."

I stopped her. "Babs, you said it yourself before; the fact that you're in that chair doesn't make you any less capable, powerful, or strong. _You _are the strongest person I've ever met. Whether or not you're being a hero on the streets or behind a computer screen, or even behind a desk in a classroom educating people, you're _always _my hero." She smiled and hugged me. "Thanks, Claire. I love you." "I love you too," I replied, smiling and squeezing her tight.

"Woah, it's four in the morning," she exclaimed, pulling back from me. "You, my dear, had better get to bed. Big weekend ahead." "Shit.. Yeah," I said, getting up from the floor and making my way to the door. "Night, Babs." I left the room and went into mine. "Night, Claire!" she called from the other room.

None of my concerns and fears had been confronted during that conversation. I wasn't any less terrified or apprehensive about the unknown road that lied ahead for me. But for some reason, as soon as I lay down in bed the second time, I felt at peace with everything. Almost instantly, I shut my eyes and drifted off to sleep.


End file.
